


Schroedinger's Ryan

by Awkward_Amateur



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt Shane Madej, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Shane madej, OR IS HE, Ryan is dead, Sad Shane Madej, disabled shane, hospitalized shane, sara is trying but shane isn't making it easy, shane has a brain injury, shane is broken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_Amateur/pseuds/Awkward_Amateur
Summary: “Ryan is... he’s uh.. He didn’t make it.”“Oh.. right.”It must have been the right thing to say for Sara seemed to relax. However, Shane couldn’t help but laugh.“Riiiiiiight, Ryan Bergara died in a house fire.”She seemed very concerned about his laughter. Maybe she was right to be, for he was discovering it was very difficult to breathe and laugh at the same time. At least the searing pain in his lungs distracted from the feel of her hand back on his arm.While staying overnight at a 'haunted' house, Shane and Ryan are trapped in a horrible fire and Ryan doesn't make it. Or maybe he does. Shane isn't willing to give up on him just yet.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Marielle Scott, Shane Madej/Sara Rubin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	1. Two Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! First of all, I am not abandoning my other fic, in fact I am almost done with the next chapter and plan to upload it sometime in the next few days. However, when scrolling through my google drive today I found an old story I wrote for some OC's of mine and decided it would make a good story for the Buzzfeed boys. I have three more chapters already written so I plan to update quite frequently at first. I had to change quite a lot to make it fit, but I hope it all makes sense now. A lot of the things that may seem a little wrong are intentionally so. Shane has a serious head injury that impacts his cognitive ability, and there's a lot going on that he doesn't fully realize yet and, since it is from his point of view, we don't either. 
> 
> That sounded a bit pretentious, didn't it? The point is, I tried my best and I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please leave a comment letting me know what you think. I'm sure you've heard it all before, but comments really are the thing that encourages me to write, and without them, I struggle to find the motivation for more chapters. If you have a complaint or suggestion I would appreciate you commenting as well, though do be gentle, I have a sensitive soul. :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I apologize for the long note. Please enjoy!

Sara entered the room. She was lovely as ever, beautiful in a deep purple sweater with the silver necklace he’d gotten her on their one year anniversary. She looked the perfect angel as long as one didn’t pay too much attention to the misting of her eyes or the redness of her cheeks.

Shane almost didn’t notice her walk in. He was fiddling with the IV coming from his right arm, the left too damaged to find a usable vein. She sat by his bedside and took a deep breath. 

“How are you feeling?”

Her hand was cold against his own. So cold it burned. He didn’t really feel like speaking. There was a tightness in his throat he couldn’t explain. Maybe she’d leave if he was quiet long enough.

“The doctors say you’ll be able to leave the ICU in a few days. We’ll be able to get you set up in a real room. Much nicer than this one. Then of course we can talk about skin grafts.”

He stopped fiddling with the IV. Maybe if he was perfectly still she’d think he was dead and leave him alone. There was always a chance.

“Or.. or we don’t have to do skin grafts. If.. well, I think you’d be much happier if you didn’t have any reminders of... well... everything.”

Everything. How specific.

“You know Shane, however you’re feeling, you can talk to me about it. I’m here for you. You know that right?”

_ I’m here for you. _ The words sounded wrong rolling off her tongue. It was supposed to be the other way around. He was supposed to be here for her. If she was here for him then who was left to be here for her?

Sara shifted her hand higher up his arm. It hurt. Why didn’t she understand that? Couldn't she feel the burning?

“I know my friendship with him wasn’t the same as yours, but I cared about him too. This is going to be hard for both of us.”

That got his attention.

“What?”

She seemed to be relieved to hear him speak. He thought she’d talked to the doctors. She had to know there was nothing wrong with his tongue or mouth or throat. Nothing except the smoke inhalation but, while it made him sound like a sixty-year-old chain smoker, it didn’t really impede his ability to speak.

“I know you probably don’t want to deal with this right now but Mari... She really isn’t in the best place and-and you knew him best anyway...”

“Knew who best?”

Now it was her turn to look confused. No, wait, not confused, disappointed. He hoped it wasn’t him she was disappointed in.

“Knew... Ryan best.”

It seemed to visibly pain her to say the words. He felt like maybe it should have pained him too. Like maybe it did but he was too numb to realize it. After all, there was currently what could only be described as a shit ton of morphine running through his veins. 

“...you mean  _ knows  _ Ryan best.”

Her hand tightened on his arm and the burning increased tenfold. It was all he could do not to jerk away.

“Shane.. you have to... they said they’d told you.”

“Told me what?”

She gasped slightly and brought her hands to her chest. With the removal of her hand, the burning ceased. Had her touch always been like that? Certainly he wouldn’t have moved in with her if it had.

“Ryan is... he’s uh... He didn’t make it.”

“Oh.. right.”

It must have been the right thing to say for Sara seemed to relax. However, Shane couldn’t help but laugh.

“Riiiiiiight, Ryan Bergara died in a house fire.”

She seemed very concerned about his laughter. Maybe she was right to be, for he was discovering it was very difficult to breathe and laugh at the same time. At least the searing pain in his lungs distracted from the feel of her hand back on his arm.

“Shane...”

“So you’ve found a body, then.” 

“No..... no, Shane, there is no body. The fire was too hot in Ryan’s part of the house. His body... his body is... is unrecoverable.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle again.

“He’s not dead Sara, he’s just waiting for a safe moment to reappear. There are things are after him, you know.”

She was silent for a moment. Good. He liked the silence. Ryan had once told him that silence was less dangerous than noise. Or maybe it was more. He was having a hard time remembering at the moment.

“Shane...I have to go, Mari really shouldn’t be alone right now. Plus I have to film this diary thing for BuzzfeedViolet; I’m not supposed to be taking so much time off work anymore. I’ll try to be back soon. If you need anything, just call. I mean it, Shane, I can be here at a moment’s notice.”

He nodded. 

She left.

Good.

That was good.

Everything was good.

\---

It was three days before she returned. He had been moved into a different room. A larger one, with soft leather armchairs and a large window. He could feel the sunlight on his face. It was nice. He wanted more of it. He thought they probably would’ve let him go outside for a bit if he asked. He didn’t ask.

Sara was carrying a to-go container in one arm. He hoped it was something good. The hospital food was... well, hospital food.

She smiled when she saw that he was awake. It was good to see her smile.

“How’s the diary?”

She squinted at him and cocked her head.

“What?”

“The other day, you said you had to film a video about a diary.”

She sat down in the armchair, food positioned on her lap. Her posture was stiff. She looked like she’d rather be somewhere else. Somewhere other than the too-clean, too-cold, too-loud, too-much, hospital room.

That made two of them.

“Right.”

Maybe he’d gotten it wrong. Maybe it wasn’t about a diary.

There was a brief pause. A moment neither of them knew the right way to fill. Then she held out the container to him. The cardboard was dented slightly. He opened it to find a few pieces of shrimp on a bed of wilted lettuce.

“I know it’s probably not what you want”

He’d always been impressed by her intelligence.

“But you have to be really careful about what you eat right now.”

He nodded. The shrimp wasn’t so bad. Neither was the lettuce. It all tasted the same. It all tasted like nothing. No, not nothing. It tasted faintly like ash and smoke. He wondered if that’s what the chefs intended.

She began to tell him about her last few days. Filming, and meetings, and just enough sleep to keep her going. Checking up on Mari. He wants to say something then. Something about how Mari might feel a lot better if she knew the truth. If she knew that Ryan wasn’t really dead. 

He’s just biding his time. 

He’ll be back soon. 

Really, he will.

She mentioned that she had been to visit him once or twice but that he’d been asleep. He’d been sleeping a lot. He was afraid to do much else. At least not until Ryan was there to remind him where the monsters were.

He found himself drifting off as she spoke. He hoped she wouldn’t be mad that he fell asleep in the middle of her conversation. It wasn’t that she was boring him. It was just nice to have someone else there with him. Someone else to keep watch for a while.

Your turn, Soldier.

She wasn’t there when he woke up.


	2. One Month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is gone and everyone else is moving on. Shane can't let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. I usually don't do the whole disclaimer thing, but for this fic, I feel it is necessary. First, I love and respect Shane and Sara's real-life relationship and wish nothing but the best for them. This is a work of fiction and not a reflection of the actual people it's based around. Second, this fic will eventually dive into Shane's past, or rather, a fictional version of Shane's past. Again, this is just something I made up to fit the story and not an indication of Shane's actual childhood.
> 
> With that out of the way, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. If you do, please leave a comment. They are my lifeblood.

A few weeks later Sara showed up in tears. Shane put down the magazine he was holding. Holding, not reading. He couldn’t exactly read anyway, not without inciting the wrath of his newfound migraines, but at least if he pretended to the nurses tended to leave him alone. On the plus side, he was certain they’d leave him alone now that she was there.

She tried to wipe the tears away but really only succeeded in smearing her make up even further than it already was. He thought he should probably ask what was wrong. He said nothing. She told him anyway.

“I had to hospitalize Mari today.”

That alarmed him. He wanted to ask her why she did that. It’s just that he didn’t really feel like talking. Once again she heard his unspoken question.

“She keeps.. keeps saying she sees Ryan, like he’s there with her whenever I’m not. I don’t....”

She trailed off. He didn’t know how to respond. That’s not exactly true. He knew how he wanted to respond. He wanted to tell her that maybe she shouldn’t have hospitalized Mari. That maybe that was the dumbest fucking thing she’d ever done. That maybe Mari was the only one who actually knew where Ryan was and she’d just shut her up in an insane asylum.

His fingers began a rapid dance against his thigh. What if Ryan couldn’t contact anyone but her? What if he needed help? He needed Sara to understand.

“Sara...”

She frowned at him. Did he already mess up? This was important, didn’t she get that?

The heartbeat monitor began to beat a little faster.

“Sara I think you should go back and get Mari.”

She looked genuinely confused. It was a look he had begun to see far too often.

“I think you made a mistake and you need to go back and get her.”

Sara’s eyes softened. Her hands reached for him and this time he was ready for the  _ too hot, too hot, too hot,  _ burning.

“Shane, I know you don’t exactly have a great history with mental institutions but I really think this could help Mari. It’s not forever. A couple of weeks at most. Don’t you want her to feel better?”

Of course he wanted her to feel better. That was a dumb question. He hoped she didn’t ask him anymore.

He shifted his legs. More precisely his leg. The left one was still as useless as it had been when he’d woken up. He couldn’t remember if that was permanent or not. He couldn’t remember anything the doctors had told him. His fingers continued their tap-tap-tapping against his thigh. He tried to get them to stop. He didn’t try very hard.

“Shane I really need you to be there for me right now okay.”

That wasn’t too much to ask really. Not of your boyfriend.

She climbed next to him onto the too-small hospital bed and lay beside him, her head on his chest, her arm around his stomach. Now his whole side burned. Except it didn’t hurt so much anymore.

She cried a lot.

  
  


She didn’t come at all in the next few days.

That was okay.

He was okay.

  
  


He’d taken to passing time by counting things. It was hard when he couldn’t actually turn his head to see most things anyway. But he could hear. So he counted footsteps. Tried to attribute them to their owners. The thin nurse with the strawberry blonde hair left quick jolting taps. The orderlies had slow rhythmic paces. There was one doctor who had a limp. He thought that if Ryan were to walk by, he would know it was him by the first footstep.

Sara didn't come back until two weeks later. She wasn’t crying but she looked close to it. He wanted to be upset that she hadn’t been to see him. He thought maybe he was upset. But mostly he was tired.

She looked like she wanted to talk. Like she had something to tell him. He thought it might be nice if she just sat with him. He wanted to hold her hand. He wouldn’t even mind if it burned. Instead, she pulled the leather armchair a little further from his bed and perched carefully. That was okay too.

“Shane...”

The first tear slipped down her face. He hated when she cried. It wasn’t that he couldn’t deal with women’s tears. He wasn’t one of those men who scoffed at the sound of their girlfriend in pain. It was just that recently he’d forgotten how to comfort her. Nothing he did seemed to make her feel any better.

“Shane I... I have to talk to you about something.”

Of course, he thought. That part had been clear from the start.

“I.. I did something horrible.”

That’s okay. I forgive you.

“I..”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She opened her mouth to say something else. He spoke first.

“How’s Mari?”

His voice sounded different. Wrong. Like it hadn’t been used in a while. He tried to remember if he’d spoken to anyone since she’d last been to visit.

She closed her mouth. Breathed in, quick and sharp through her nose.

“She’s.. better. The medicine is helping a lot.”

That was good. Or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t have the energy to remember which.

She was quiet for a while. He thought maybe whatever had been troubling her had passed. He hoped so. He wanted her to stay for a while. It got lonely in the too-perfect hospital room.

Eventually, the silence was broken. Her sobbing was loud and desperate. He found himself hoping there wasn’t anyone around to notice. He found himself hoping that Ryan would just go ahead and get back already so they could all move on from this weird twilight zone they were living in.

“Sara, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t really want to know.

“I’m so sorry.”

Didn’t you hear me before? I forgave you all your sins a long time ago.

“I just.. I don’t...”

She stopped and took a deep breath.

“I’m not going to make any excuses for what I did.”

That’s okay. Make all the excuses you want.

“I... I’ve been.. seeing someone else.

Oh.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Oh. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


She left at some point. He knew because when his brain finally started working again she wasn’t there. His fingers were not tapping now.

_ Dear Ryan, _

_ Now would be a really good time to show up. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. Things will turn out okay.
> 
> ...Or will they?


	3. Three Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane begins the long process of recovery and receives an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading this fic. It hasn't gotten many hits so I'm not sure if I will finish it, but I'm at least going to post one more chapter after this one. If you are enjoying this fic, please leave a comment so I know that it's worth finishing. Also, check out my other fic, Open Feilds, and Blue Skies. Enjoy, and as always, stay safe and stay informed.

The physical therapist was named Justin. That was a nice name. Shane told him so. He smiled at that. Shane smiled too. But it pulled at the burned, blistered parchment stretched across his cheekbones. He decided not to do that anymore. 

Justin told him his inner ear was damaged which made it hard for him to balance. That must have been why they made him use the wheelchair to get there. There being the hospital’s rehabilitation facility. Justin told him to stand between two parallel bars and grip them, one in each hand. It was a dumb exercise. He could stand on his own, maybe a bit wobbly but he  _ could. _ So it was stupid to make him hold the bars too.

“That’s it Madej, now close your eyes.”

Shane closed his eyes. An immediate dizziness washed over him. More than dizziness; total disorientation. His eyes snapped open and he found himself on his knees, wobbling listlessly, arms overhead desperately clutching the bars.

Oh.

Maybe it wasn’t such a dumb exercise.

“That’s good Shane. I know it doesn’t feel like it but you actually are doing really well for someone with your injuries.”

See, Sara? I’m doing really well.

“Now I’d like to see you try that a few more times before you go. What do you think?”

I think I’d rather not.

Shane stood up. Gripped the bars. And closed his eyes.

  
  


A week later Mari came to visit. She seemed unsteady and Shane wondered if she had inner ear problems too. Maybe that’s why Sara hospitalized her. No, wait. That was because she saw Ryan.

He forced himself to a sitting position. He would have smiled too, except that he wasn’t doing that anymore. She took a seat in the leather armchair nearest to his bed.  _ That’s Sara’s chair. _

But Sara didn’t visit anymore, so he thought it might be okay if Mari borrowed it for a while.

Mari was dressed in soft pastels. Her typical high heeled death traps exchanged for a pair of soft-looking sandals. The thick poofy hair usually styled to perfection hung loosely about her face. Her expression was calm, if a bit hesitant, and she fixed him with a small smile he wished he could reciprocate. She probably wanted him to break the silence. He hoped she wouldn’t mind when he didn’t.

She swallowed.

“Hey, Shane.”

_ Shane. _

It’d been a while since anyone had called him that. It was all Mr. Madej now. It made him feel strange. Like a child being chastised. Ryan would find it hilarious when he returned, would probably spend at least a week calling him  _ Mr. Madej _ with a mocking tone. Shane probably wouldn’t mind that so much.

_ If that’s what you’re worried about Ryan, if that’s what’s stopping you from coming back, don’t worry, I don’t mind. I don’t mind that you’ve been AWOL for three months and nine days. I don’t mind that everyone else thinks you’re dead. I don’t mind that I’m all alone now, that you left me here all alone. I don’t mind. Really. _

It took him a while to realize Mari was waiting for a response. She hadn’t asked him a question though so he wasn’t sure what he should say. Maybe his social skills were a bit rusty. Justin told him the head injury had been pretty severe. That he’d been lucky it seemed to have had little effect on his speech or thought process. His memories appeared to be relatively intact as well, excluding the night of the fire, which he was perfectly happy not remembering. The  _ TBI (traumatic brain injury),  _ as the doctors referred to it, had wreaked havoc on his motor skills, though, leaving him unable to maneuver his barely healed limbs with any illusion of precision. 

_ Is that what you want to know, Mari? Is it? _

The therapy was helping, even if it was a slow and painful process. To be honest, Shane didn’t really mind it. It was sort of nice repeating the same motions, listening to Justin talk about his life. Justin didn’t mind when he didn’t respond. He just kept talking.

He decided on parroting her own words.

“Hey, Mari.”

It sounded kind of like  _ Hail Mary.  _ That would have made him laugh, except that he didn’t do that anymore.

Her smile widened at his words.

“How.. how are you?”

Her words were soft. Like her clothes and hair and smile and whole fucking demeanor. She was soft. He didn’t know why that upset him that much.

“I’m good.”

He wasn’t but it was a nice thing to say.

“About a three.”

She seemed confused. 

“A..three..?”

Oh. Right. Mari hadn’t been at the hospital for very long. Probably only a few minutes really. She didn’t know the script yet. After she asked him how he was she was supposed to ask him to rate his pain from one to ten. He had tried to make it easier by preempting her question, just so she didn’t have to ask if she didn’t want to. But now he’d messed it up, made it awkward. Jesus Christ, they’d said a total of three words to each other and he’d already fucked up. Wasn’t he supposed to be the knowledgeable one? The mature one? Ryan was the chaotic one, the one that could make you a bit uncomfortable with his overeager energy if you didn’t know him better. Shane didn’t really feel like talking anymore.

“Shane?”

He turned away. Faced the opposite wall. It was a pale yellow.  _ Soft. _

“Shane, are you okay?”

_ Would I be here if I was? _

“Are you in pain, Shane?”

_ I don’t remember, Mari, I don’t remember what the difference is. Haven’t I always been in pain? _

“Shane...I’m gonna get a doctor!”

Okay. That was okay. She didn’t need to sound so frantic. It didn’t matter how long it took for the doctor to arrive. He’d still be here. He’d always be here.

  
  


Later they told him he’d had another heart attack. Shane didn’t remember having a first one, but he must have for the doctor was admonishing him for overworking himself and Shane couldn’t help but laugh crazily. Overworking himself? He’d not left his hospital bed, save for the twice weekly physical therapy appointments and the biweekly actual therapy appointments. Shane didn’t know whether ‘biweekly’ meant twice a week or once every two weeks but the physical therapy seemed to occur more often so it must have been the latter. He reminded himself to ask someone about it later.

They also told him he wasn’t allowed any visitors for a while. That they knew it would be hard but his condition was  _ unstable _ which was the accepted way of saying  _ royally fucked _ in the medical world. They were wrong. Not about the unstable part, that must be true for his heart still regularly skipped beats and he was too weak for a pacemaker to be installed which meant an external device was shocking him intermittently with no warning whatsoever. They were wrong about the no visitors part. It wouldn’t be hard. It would be exactly the same as when he could have visitors. It would all be the same. Every day. The same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading :)


	4. Four Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane talks to a therapist and is finally released from the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented!! It made me so happy to hear that there are people interested in this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It may be a little bit longer until the next one because I don't have it planned yet. The best thing you can do to motivate me is leave more comments! :)

Rachel was nice, and that was all Shane had to say about her. She was his therapist and she was nice. He’d told her as much but she seemed to want more. Always more. He didn’t have more to say. The only thing he really wanted to talk about was when he could get out of there and go search for Ryan, but when he’d tried to bring it up at their first session, Rachel had just given him a pitying look and prescribed a plethora of new meds. She always emphasized the importance of taking them, as if she expected him to refuse outright or else secretly flush his daily dose down the drain. He wondered if her other patients did those sorts of things. Shane certainly didn’t. If the doc said he should take meds, who was he to say otherwise. She had a master's degree in psychology, he had...

This time she wanted him to talk about Sara. He didn’t know how she heard about their break-up. Maybe the nurses were gossiping about it. Maybe Sara had warned her that he might need to talk about it. Most likely she had just gone on social media. She asked him what had made him break up with her so suddenly. Was it a self-destructive reaction to his circumstances? A slowly simmering resentment suddenly magnified by a confrontation with one’s own mortality? Did he think he was protecting her by distancing himself?

_ Circle letter D for none of the above. _

In truth, Shane hadn’t even asked to break up, but Sara had finalized the ending of their relationship mere days after she’d confessed her infidelity. He hoped the new guy made her happy. He hoped she was happy. He hoped she was happy. He hoped she was happy.  _ I hope that you’re happy, Sara. Is it true now? Did I say it enough times to make it true? I hope that you’re happy, I hope that you’re happy, I hope that you’re happy. _

Of course, he didn’t tell Rachel any of this. She’d just ask him how he felt about it, and he didn’t have an answer. Or rather, she wouldn’t accept the answer he had. He felt nothing. Not numb exactly. He was disappointed when the cafeteria served strawberries instead of grapes. He was appreciative when the nurses brought him warm blankets in the evenings. He was satisfied when he made progress in physical therapy and frustrated when he didn’t. But when it came to the big things, the fire, his injuries, Sara,  _ Ryan _ , he felt nothing. The doctors were always terribly concerned when he expressed his apathy. They changed his meds and scheduled more therapy. They brought in a dog to sit with him once a week and forced him to attend a meditative painting class given by a young patient’s mother. They fretted and worried and scolded and told him that he needed to access his true feelings or he’d never process them properly. He’d never be able to move on or move forward or do all the things he wanted to do in life  _ cause you do have dreams, Shane, don’t you? Hopes and Dreams?  _ He’d never be able to fully heal, he’d have to live forever in the hospital and the visitors would stop coming ( _ check)  _ and he’d be completely alone until eventually, his body gave him the mercy of finality. Shane didn’t understand why that was such a bad thing.

He decided to tell Rachel about the dog he’d had briefly as a child. The little rottweiler puppy he’d found scavenging in their trash, thin and mean and desperate. The one he’d named Terror ‘cause he reminded him of Butcher’s dog from his favorite comics. The one he’d skipped school to build a proper doghouse for, made from wood and nails and everything, purchased from the local hardware store with money he’d earned at a real honest to goodness job he held for about two months. The one he’d snuck food to every night. The one that followed him everywhere, so much so that the principal had to call his parents and demand they keep ‘that damned dog’ caged up somewhere far away from the school. The one his parents hadn’t known about. The one his father had tied a couple of sandbags to and dragged into the water after a few clipped words about Shane learning his goddamn lesson. The one that had drowned in the lake while Shane watched, rooted in place by his father’s command. It didn’t mean anything. Really. Was just one story among millions. Didn’t have anything to do with here or now. But the doctor would probably like to hear it. Maybe it would satisfy her need to fix him.  _ It’s a lost cause, good buddy, don’t bother.  _ Anyway, it would pass the time so that was something.

  
  


Mari tried to come back. One of the nurses informed him with a smile like that was the secret to healing him. Mari had tried to visit but was denied.  _ I’m not allowed visitors, remember, Mari? _ He wondered how Mari felt about the break-up. If she supported Sara. If she resented him. He imagined if this had happened when everything was still normal, that it would have been a picking sides sort of thing. Mari would have supported Sara and Ryan... well he’d never loved Sara anyway, only made an effort to like her because Shane swore she was his one and only. 

She was his one and only.

He wondered if she knew that. He wondered if it would have changed things if he told her. She had to know, right?  _ Remember what we told each other Sara? Remember how I told you about when we first met, and I already knew I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend? How I wouldn’t go to your place without Ryan checking my outfit first because you know I don’t do that fashion stuff. Remember what you said? I can’t remember what you said. _

The pitying looks had slowly stopped. Outside the hospital, in the court of social media, people deemed him an overbearing asshole or else an emotionless robot. Within the pristine white walls, people knew the truth. They knew that he was just too broken now. They didn’t blame him for it. Nor did they blame Sara. It was just an unfortunate fact of life. The kind of thing not worth crying over. The kind of thing you’re supposed to just accept. Shane was getting pretty good at accepting.

He saw Rachel three times a week now. She seemed to think they were making some kind of breakthrough and since Buzzfeed was footing the bill, he was entitled to the finest care the hospital could manage. She wanted to talk about his childhood. His father. He didn’t really understand how it related to the fire, the thing she was supposed to be helping him with, but he told her anyway. He’d never said any of it out loud before. After each session, she asked him how he felt. _Don’t you feel good now Shane? Isn’t it so nice to finally tell someone_? He didn’t and it wasn’t but he liked it when she smiled at him so he always nodded. 

They were talking about releasing him soon. He had a pacemaker now and his heart was doing well. He could walk on his own with the help of some crutches, as long as he didn’t have to climb any stairs. He could feed himself, use the bathroom, do everything a functioning human being needed to do. But they wanted to release him into someone else's care. Sara was out of the picture and Ryan was nowhere to be seen. Shane didn’t really have anyone else, or at least not anyone he felt comfortable staying with. Mari crossed his mind, but it would be too painful to watch her move on, knowing Ryan was still out there waiting for her.  _ What are you waiting for Ryan? _

He had a new phone now. Apparently Sara had dropped it off a few weeks prior while he’d been asleep. It had numbers pre-programmed into it. Sara’s number,  _ delete.  _ Mari’s number,  _ delete. _ His brother. His parents. Ryan’s parents. Jake. He couldn’t bring himself to delete those. It would be too much like cutting them out of his life. He wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t Ryan.  _ Is that what this is Ryan? Are you cutting me out too? _ He knew he wasn’t. Ryan might leave him but he wouldn’t leave Mari. He loved her. That was nice.

Eventually, Steven came. Apparently he’d been visiting Shane a lot, but Shane was always asleep or else too out of it to remember. Those seemed to be his most common states of being. Steven helped him gather his things, mostly cards and flowers from coworkers and friends, and helped him hobble to the car. He drove them to Shane’s apartment. He kept up a constant string of conversation but it was all white noise to Shane. Something in him was filling with panic. The hospital had felt like a sort of purgatory. It had been ok, within those pristine white walls, that Ryan wasn’t there. Or, well, not ok, but at least not terrible. Shane had been certain Ryan would show up before he had to leave. But now, here he was, going back to his apartment.  _ Without Ryan.  _ Putting away his things.  _ Without Ryan.  _ Listening to Steven convince him to come back to work.  _ Without Ryan.  _ Shane got the feeling that, if he wasn’t careful, his life might continue that way forever.

_ Without Ryan. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENTS ARE THE FOOD FOR MY SOUL
> 
> who's psyched for season two of www?

**Author's Note:**

> your comments feed my muse


End file.
